


Under No Circumstances Should You Ask A Woman If She Is Pregnant

by Knitwritezombie (Missa_G)



Series: 100 Rules for Adults (That Clint Barton Never Learned) [39]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, On the Run, Vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 23:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3996601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missa_G/pseuds/Knitwritezombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Natasha's first meeting/mission...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under No Circumstances Should You Ask A Woman If She Is Pregnant

6 hours after asking Coulson to trust him and going off comms to talk down the Black Widow instead of kill her, Clint was roused from his doze by the sound of retching behind the thin door that separated the bathroom from the rest of the dingy motel where they’d holed up.

Clint stretched without moving much, putting his body through a series of isometrics while he watched the door. Widow had agreed to come in if Clint helped her get rid of some Russian goons who were chasing her down (he hadn’t gotten the full story, but Clint had been able to read between the lines). Besides the toilet flushing and subsequent water running in the bathroom the building around him was quiet. It was late (or early, depending on the point of view) and they’d be moving out soon. 

Clint wanted to call in, but he had to hope that Coulson did trust him, and would give him the 36 hours he’d asked for before sending another team to track him down and take him out for going rogue. 

The door creaked open. “You’re still here,” the petite woman observed, her voice low and rich. 

“I promised,” Clint responded, glancing up. She was pale, and not in the beautiful ivory skinned way of the previous day, but the slightly sickly pale, that wasn’t helped by the current bright shade of red of her hair. “You pregnant or something?”

She snorted. “Didn’t your mother teach you that it’s not polite to ask about things like that?” She crossed to the bed and sat, folding her legs under her. 

“Mama died before she had much of a chance to teach me anything,” Clint responded. 

Widow shrugged. “No.” she held up a wad of gum. “I ate something that disagreed with me.”

“Seriously?” Clint looked at her. “That’s…”

“Necessary,” she said with another shrug, teasing the wad of gum apart to reveal a Microdrive. 

“The data?” Clint asked, pulling himself to his feet.

“The data,” she agreed, leaning over to pull her laptop onto the bed with her, and they got to work.


End file.
